Country Living
Country Living, Country Skills
Country People

KountryLife.com - A Country Living Resource and Community
Community
Message Board
Country Topics
Trading Post
Memory Lane
Country Skills
Country Cooking

Channels
Gardening
Livestock
The Kitchen
Machinery
Tools

Photographs
Photo Gallery
Vintage Photos
Special Collections

Fun
Country Humor
Country Sounds
Coloring Book
Interactive Story

Farm Tractors
Pictures
Tractor Parts
Tractor Manuals

Miscellaneous
Classic Trucks
Antique Tractors
Modern Tractors
Site Map
Links Page
Contact Us

  
Country Discussion Topics
To add your comments to this topic, click on one of the 'Reply' links below.

Honest,hardworking,god fearing Yankes
[Return to Topics]

Clod    Posted 07-09-2003 at 15:47:06       [Reply]  [No Email]
We were taught this in school long ago in Texas.We had a lot of respect or the man who wrote this poem.>>>>>>>>>>>>The Village Blacksmith
BY Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

Under a spreading chestnut-tree
The village smithy stands;
The smith, a mighty man is he,
With large and sinewy hands;
And the muscles of his brawny arms
Are strong as iron bands.

His hair is crisp, and black, and long,
His face is like the tan;
His brow is wet with honest sweat,
He earns whate'er he can,
And looks the whole world in the face,
For he owes not any man.

Week in, week out, from morn till night,
You can hear his bellows blow;
You can hear him swing his heavy sledge,
With measured beat and slow,
Like a sexton ringing the village bell,
When the evening sun is low.

And children coming home from school
Look in at the open door;
They love to see the flaming forge,
And hear the bellows roar,
And catch the burning sparks that fly
Like chaff from a threshing-floor.
He goes on Sunday to the church,
And sits among his boys;
He hears the parson pray and preach,
He hears his daughter's voice,
Singing in the village choir,
And it makes his heart rejoice.

It sounds to him like her mother's voice,
Singing in Paradise!
He needs must think of her once more,
How in the grave she lies;
And with his hard, rough hand he wipes
A tear out of his eyes.

Toiling, -- rejoicing -- sorrowing,
Onward through life he goes;
Each morning sees some task begin,
Each evening sees it close;
Something attempted, something done,
Has earned a night's repose.

Thanks, thanks to thee, my worthy friend,
For the lesson thou hast taught!
Thus as the flaming forge of life
Our fortunes must be wrought;
Thus on its sounding anvil shaped
Each burning deed and thought.

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>


Ron,Ar    Posted 07-09-2003 at 18:55:10       [Reply]  [No Email]
just my 'pinion, but when he wrote that, men who had that sort of talent (blacksmiths) were respected for their abilities. Now folks that work with their hands, no matter how talented are mostly thought of as laborers by most "professionals/yuppies".


Clod    Posted 07-09-2003 at 19:06:03       [Reply]  [No Email]
Ron AR I agree.I was in DC when Clinton was running the country .That was the big crowd there then.They have no idea how things are constructed ,They only live by words and letters.


[Return to Topics]



[Home] [Search]

Copyright © 1999-2013 KountryLife.com
All Rights Reserved
A Country Living Resource and Community